


Friends With Benefits

by notsoslimshady



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Dom Zayn, Dom/sub, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Physical Abuse, Rimming, Sexual Content, Some Fluff, Sub Harry, Suicidal Thoughts, handjobs, just some random shit at 3 am
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-01
Updated: 2013-11-16
Packaged: 2017-12-25 06:58:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/950069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notsoslimshady/pseuds/notsoslimshady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Zayn and Harry. People liked Harry. People tolerated Zayn. Harry lit up a room. Zayn lit up a joint. It was that simple, Harry was the one that everybody seemed to rely on for conversation and advice and Zayn was always good on a cigarette, or a lighter, or a spliff, and basically anything else that was even remotely illegal or bad for you. Harry was cute and fun, and Zayn was sultry and mysterious. It was just how it was"</p>
<p>Zayn's been having a bit of a hard time since he and Liam broke up. All the destructive behavior he'd participated in just seemed to flood back into play after Liam left. So he leaned on Harry. It was nice knowing that even after a shit day at work he'd have a 'hope you feel better' handjob waiting for him without all the commitment and responsibility.</p>
<p>But then Liam dies, and Zayn's world is turned upside down; he must lean on Harry more than ever as he travels to Wolverhampton for the funeral. And maybe everything he'd been missing in Liam was always lying there in Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Zayn and Harry. People liked Harry. People tolerated Zayn. Harry lit up a room. Zayn lit up a joint. It was that simple, Harry was the one that everybody seemed to rely on for conversation and advice and Zayn was always good on a cigarette, or a lighter, or a spliff, and basically anything else that was even remotely illegal or bad for you. Harry was cute and fun, and Zayn was sultry and mysterious. It was just how it was . 

They had been best friends since high school when Harry found Zayn smoking in the restroom during fifth period and went against being a total nark. After that, they just kind of fell together, like it was gravity. Eventually, high school ended, just in time for the gangly pair, as Harry was sick and tired of having to rely on Zayn to kick everybody's ass who even dared to make a snide comment about his sexuality, and Zayn was just done with the whole teenage ordeal. It was all just too much for him to handle on his own anymore. With his mum's abandoning their family just four short years earlier and the the fact that his father still hadn't gotten over it himself about it and his new found alcoholism, he was just done. Not to mention that his father may or may not have been hitting his sisters at the time, not that that he'd ever been around enough to confirm any suspicions. So they left. Little Harry and Zayn packed up their things and they left. All those bad memories that connected so heavily to Holmes Chapel were gone. Harry's grand plans to go off to college had been abandoned, and Zayn couldn't be bothered with any type of career plan anyway, so they packed a bag or two and left right before graduation. 

After only a few months, they'd settled into their new life in London, tiny apartment and all. It was almost like they'd always been meant to be living together because they simply -- clicked. Every morning they'd drag their little bums out of bed and Zayn would watch a naked Harry make them both breakfast. Then the boys would mosey off to their seperate rooms and throw on some clothes to wear to work the days away at the little dead end jobs they'd scored. And as the sun began to start setting, they'd catch the train back to their apartment, and order takeout to eat on their laps as they watched some crappy romantic comedy that Harry was dying to watch. Then about fifteen minutes into it, when the actor's voices began to pull at Zayn's nerves, the raven haired boy would pull out the little pencil case he kept in his messenger bag and he'd smoke a blunt to take the edge off a bit, ignoring Harry's pleas not to because it made the furniture smell. Sometimes, when Harry'd have a bad day, he'd plop onto the couch and share whatever Zayn was smoking since he couldn't really be bothered to get his own. And on weekends, they'd go out to whatever club they saw fit at the time and dance then drink away all their troubles with total strangers that they would usually proceed to either pound into somebody's mattress or fool around with in a bathroom stall. Soon, months became years, easy, comfortable years of new jobs and new opportunities. Even sooner, they fell in love. Not with each other, with Liam and Louis.

Harry had met a beautiful, blue-eyed boy named Louis. And Zayn met an innocent, puppy-eyed boy named Liam with a shaved head and a big heart. Zayn had only had a boyfriends in his life, being that he much preferred his own company then others', but he knew that Liam was different. Liam wasn't put off when Zayn wasn't really interacting with him or being really quiet. Nor did he ever pry when he knew that something was bothering Zayn, simply letting Zayn come to him when he was ready. And as everything else in his life, his relationship was comfortable. All the guards that Zayn started to put up, and the habits that he'd picked up since his mom left just diminished. 

"Its like I know I should've done something but I I didn't, and now all I can do is stare at those bruises and...", he found himself trailing off after a long night of weed and booze, and some pill he didn't remember the name of in a room that still smelled like sex, wrapped up in someone else's sheets, facing Liam with both their clothes strewn about and music thumping from below them.

"That doesn't make you a bad person, Zee. It was a lapse in judgement, sure, but you were dealing with a lot of other stuff, and believe me having no parents at that time would've been way too much to handle", Liam spoke with a soft, solemn tone. And Zayn just dazedly agreed, deciding that Liam, the orphan, probably knew what he was talking about. Plus, he was much too stoned and way too tired to argue.

"Love you", Zayn gave a silly, intoxicated smile that, somehow, seemed not to take any of the meaning out of it because it was the first time he'd said that, and Zayn wasn't one for mushy crap, so it was a big step. And Zayn was sure that had he been a little less stoned, Liam probably would've jumped for joy. Instead, the doe-eyed boy simply offered a hazy smile to match Zayn's and mumbled out a cluster of words that sounded a bit like, "Love you too, Zany". 

Sometime after, well ... things just became official, sort of. Harry started to go over to Louis' a lot more often than usual, and Liam had soon become a fixture in their flat. Soon, Harry went off to live in Louis' swanky uptown flat and Liam came in not long after, taking up his place. 

Harry and Zayn still hung out though, they were still best mates, and they still told each other everything like usual. But for once, in a really, really long time, they happened to not be the center of each other's worlds. and they were okay with it.

And that all brought him here to this. Two years later, standing in the rain with a box of office supplies and no Liam. 

He and Liam had broken up a year ago, after Zayn found Liam in their bed with some auburn haired girl the same night that Zayn was planning to propose. Needless to say, things didn't exactly end amicably. Those habits and walls that Liam had help him kick slowly reappeared back into his life, this time worse. It became this melancholy rhythm of alcohol, drugs, and sex. Right after the breakup, he took a two week vacation from work, liking not having to really bother with cleaning himself up. At first, he was good at it, keeping his misery and his work seperate. But lately he'd gotten sloppy, which is how he ended up here; this little place called fired. 

And as he began to pack his things, humming an old tune his mum sang when she was sad, because frankly, he was still too depressed to even care. He carried the box down the stairs, opting out of having to make small talk with the lift attendant. A little buzz went off in his pocket, making him a bit anxious, seeing that he'd pushed just about everyone out of his life and Harry was o doubt still at work. 

Zayn let out a sigh of relief when he came to see that it was simply Harry ringing him up, choosing to ignore the peculiarity of it all.  
"Zayn?", the familiar deep voice crackled on the other line. "Yeah?" "Liam's, uh, Liam's passed today", Harry stumbled out, never the type to be too good with giving bad news.

He didn't yell, or cry, or curse whoever had sent him so much bad luck. He simply stood there letting his arm hang limp at his side, and the rain wash over him, as the world swallowed him up.


	2. Chapter 2

Black. All Zayn could see is black. Though he could hear the incessant beeping noise to his right, and the sound of a child's laugh somewhere far away, he couldn't see anything but a pitch black. And come to think of it, even his body felt weird, like he was swimming. Was he swimming? Had he gone blind and simply forgotten? His mother did always yell at him for not keeping up with things. Maybe that was it. Suddenly the beeping got louder, why didn't someone stop it? It was starting to irk him, with its consistency. Wait no, it was faster now. And now that he thought about it, he didn't just feel like he was underwater, everything sounded like it was underwater. His theory was confirmed when he heard the faint click-clack of high heels enter his area. "Hello?", Zayn tried hard to let out. No one answered. "He seems to be doing better, Mr. Styles. He should be awake today", a woman said. Probably the one wearing heels. But why was Harry here? And who were they talking about. Who was asleep? "Harry?", Zayn struggled again. Still no answer. Why was everyone ignoring him? Zayn tried reaching out his hand. He couldn't. What? Maybe he was too tired. For some reason, he felt really tired

Suddenly he felt a presence beside him, "Zayn, I hope you wake up soon. We all miss you a lot. I just feel so bad for being the one to tell you about Liam. I hope you can forgive me". Zayn recognized that voice, hell he'd recognize that voice anywhere; it was Harry's. But wait, what had Harry told him about Liam? And Zayn was the one who was asleep?! This was all beginning to be too much for him. He felt a hand grasp his, and oh how he wanted to but he couldn-. Wait, yes he could, that was exactly what he was doing. Apparently, Harry had noticed it too because he let go and started to yell out to someone. "He moved! He moved!". Zayn heard Harry's footsteps pitter patter across the floor, and rush out of the door. Slowly, Zayn curled up his finger tips, the feeling in his body slowly spilling over his body. He yawned lightly, stretching as his vision went from a pitch black to a spotty picture.The spots slowly faded into a blur before clearing up into his normal, perfect vision. Now he could see the bright, white lights shining up above in the perfectly blinding way that they do. And he could feel the itchy hospital gown across his skin. Harry came in, bouncing nervously behind the nurse with the warm smile. "Wha-What happened?", Zayn scratched his head. "Just a bit of stress and anxiety combined, that's all. You'll be fine and outta here in a jiffy", the woman's lipstick adorned mouth curled up into a smile that reminded him of his own mum. "So I can take him home soon?", Harry's eyes lit up at the mere mention of being home with his Zayn. Because as distant and cold as Zayn was, Harry loved him still. For years, the younger boy coddled him and consoled him till he was absolutely blue in the face, only to have Zayn run off to some other man that would only inevitably lead him to another disaster. You could say that it was an unrequited love of sorts, well except for the fact that Zayn didn't exactly know. Sure it was obvious, but when you're as fucked up in the head as Zayn, it's kind of hard to believe that anyone could be head over heels for you. That was especially hard to believe for the first week that Zayn was home from the hospital. He refused to come out of his room, if not for the pack of cigarettes or fresh bottle of whiskey that Harry refused to buy. Even then, it was scarce. Always earning the raven haired boy a furrowed brow or two that he answered with a curt "fuck off". Unless of course it was Harry, for some reason Zayn couldn't seem to shut that one out of his life. Maybe it was because he had those sparkly, Disney princess eyes that made you melt like chocolate in the warm Texas sun. Or maybe it was because he tried so damn hard to make Zayn feel better, telling lame puns he'd spent all night searching for. Possibly it could be attributed to the fuzzy feeling he got when that mop of chocolate curls poked through his door, asking him if he's up for a cuppa. And of course Zayn agreed, up for it or not, because Harrry was Harry. Which happened to be the same reason that he bothered to listen to the boy's stories about his wild times in the mail room. And why he let Harry snuggle up in his bed and watch reruns of 'I Love Lucy'. But mostly, why he answered the door when the familiar knocking rhythm came about. "Zayn?", Harry's raspy voice had a careful tone to it. His head popped into the doorway, green eyes peering at Zayn through his thick, dark lashes. "I know you said not to bother you with calls, but this one's kind of important". Zayn swallowed down the sarcastic comments erupting within him and clenched his jaw. "You're fine, hand it over" He expected the shifty voice of some guy that he owed money, or his mother calling to make sure that her baby hadn't killed himself just yet. But the person he heard wasn't either of those people, they weren't dishonest, nor were they judgmental. They were sweet, and warm, and "Karen? Karen Payne?" "Zayn, darling, I'm glad you picked up. I wanted to talk to you about Liam's", her voice wavered, "his uh -". Zayn's breath hitched. No, no, he could not let this woman say the f word. He wasn't ready for that yet, not at all. "well, you know", she finished, making Zayn remember how much he loved Karen. "Sure, yeah, I haven't really gotten an invitation in the mail yet" "That's what I wanted to talk about, actually" "I-I'm not quite sure what you mean there" "Honey, you know that Geoff and I love you like our own, and if we could have it our way, you two would be married by now -" Zayn cut her off, "But?" "but the family. Well the family isn't" "Are you saying that I can't come?" "You can come, just not to the -- funeral" "W-what do you mean?", Zayn's volume was accelerating at an alarming pace now, because he loved Liam. And Liam loved him. But because he wasn't another girl on Liam's list, he didn't even deserve to properly say goodbye? "The funeral director says that you come in the morning before everyone gets there, if you want" It was then that Zayn realized how heavily he was breathing, and how tight he had been clutching the phone because now Harry was taking it away and his knuckles were still white. And he didn't really trust himself to do anything, so he just crawled int a ball in the middle of his bed, taking shuddery breaths and tasting hot, salty tears flow into his mouth. Harry stayed in with him for a little while, stroking Zayn's hair and back, until there was a knock at the door and he sauntered off to answer it. That was when Zayn started to think that maybe everyone was right. Maybe everyone was right when they said that Zyan wasn't equipped to handle loss. Because everyone in his life has pretty much gone and Zayn just keeps doing the same goddamn thing. He doesn't step up and be anybody's rock, he just sits around feeling sorry for himself. It happened when his dad left when he was 10, then again when his uncle died when he was 15, and then when Danny died the very next year, and now with Liam. Zayn Malik is not a man. Zayn Malik is a bitch. This discovery only causes Zayn to sob harder though, because why couldn't he be strong like his mother instead of all cowardly like his father. And, frankly, his dad hasn't made any efforts to fix anything which means that Zayn probably won't either. All together though, Zayn's just tired of being death's bitch, but he doesn't know to do about it. So he just stays that way; crying and sobbing and gasping for air. At one point he feels Harry's comforting touch that's not so comforting anymore reappear, and he thinks about giving him a 'thanks for being there blowjob' or at least asking who was at the door. But Zayn's tears have dried up and he's just wheezing now, and he's tired. Not to to mention that his throat and head are throbbing from all those hours of crying, so he makes a mental note to repay Harry later.


	3. Chapter 3

"Is he gonna go?", Zayn woke up to Niall's booming voice in the living room and a killer migraine. He didn't know that the boys were here, why didn't Harry wake him? Sure, he'd been mostly distant and snappy lately, but Harry was the one who had faith in him. When he was like this, all of the other boys would roll their eyes, but not Harry. Was Harry giving up on him too?

But then he heard a softer voice, hushed. "Shut your trap, you're gonna wake Zayn. But i don't know, he hasn't said anything since Karen called. I want him to open up, but you know how he is. I just, I don't wanna push him, y'know?" 

Zayn heard a scoff, most likely Harry's ex boyfriend Louis. The pair had been broken up for almost two years now and frankly, Zayn wasn't sure why they kept him around. All he ever did was sneer and scoff at the mere mention of anything directly related to Zayn. Louis hated him but for some reason, Zayn couldn't bring himself to hate Louis back. So with every witty comment, Zayn gave him a vengeful smile and moved on. 

"Personally I think Zayn's being a big baby about all of. Your ex boyfriend died, cry me a river", Louis spoke again and he swore that he heard Harry's neck vein pop out from all the way in his room. If you'd been there you would've heard it too when Harry sucked in a large breath. And you would've imagined Niall, and his reassuring knee patting. Not to mention Louis' cerulean eyes that went wider than Bugs Bunny at the sight of Jessica Rabbit, for just a moment. 

Niall answered for his angry friend,"Lou, you weren't here but Liam was just about the best thing that happened to Zayn, he was the happiest I'd ever seen him when thy were together". 

"I still think he's being overly emotional about this", Louis said under his breath. 

Zayn could hear the Vein popping again, maybe it was time to come out of his room now. He ripped himself from the warm comfort of his duvet and got up with a shiver. Why was it so damn cold in this house? The boy dodged and leapt over the endless piles of trash and dirty clothes, emerging in just his somewhat clean underwear. 

The pixie-like boy glared at him from under long, brown lashes. "I'm gonna go", he smiled curtly, before sauntering out of the door to retreat to his own flat. 

"Glad I got rid of him, eh?", Zayn mustered a playful smile. He was trying to balance out the tension in the room. Harry was giving him that look again; that pained, pity look. 

"You alright, bro?", Niall could sense it too, apparently. 

"Yeah", even he knew that he didn't sound that convinced, "yeah I'll be alright". Zayn had to turn around now. Because now Niall was giving him the look too, and he couldn't take it. It felt the same as when his sisters did after his dad left. He was supposed to be the strong one. He was supposed to be okay. 

But he wasn't, not in the least. And then he could feel both the boys' eyes on him as he went to put on some morning tea. "You guys want a cuppa?",he summoned another one of his famous plastic smiles.

"Niall, can you give us a minute?", Harry's voice was softened now. 

"Yeah I'll just catch up with you guys later", Niall exited quietly, he knew what was about to happen. 

"You're not okay", Zayn felt the heat of Harry's presence sneak up behind him. 

"I'm fine Harry", Zayn could feel something else too; defeat. 

"No you're not"

"Yes, I a-", Harry spun him around, cutting off his sentence. 

They were face to face now, Harry's hands enveloping the sides of his face. "You don't have to do this, not for me". For once, his raspberry lips didn't stumble over what to say, the words and out with swift and ease. Harry meant it this time. 

So he let go. He let go and went to get a taste of his most sinful addiction; Harry. The mocha-eyed boy leaned in pressed his lips against Harry's. Zayn missed this. He missed the soft curvature of Harry's lips against his. His missed the airy feeling of kissing him, getting lost in all things Harry Edward Styles. 

The kiss went heated quickly. Maybe it was just hitting the both of them that they hadn't had any sexual contact in weeks. Or maybe it was just they drove each other crazy in the most inexplicable way possible. But either way, Zayn felt it. He felt high, the pure descension into madness that being with Harry brought. 

Harry's hands retreated from Zayn's cheek, only to land at his crotch, cupping his semi. Zayn pulled out of the kiss. "No", he whispered as he dropped to his knees. He wouldn't make this about himself, it was about Harry right know. He needed to let Harry know that he appreciated him. Make Harry feel as good as he made Zayn feel. He didn't want to, he /needed/ to. 

Harry's eyes dropped down with the figure below him. This is the kind of redamancy he longed for, even if just for a moment. 

Zayn's breaths were tremulous and nervous as he untied Harry's sweatpants, he hadn't done this in so long. And he need to do this right. 

He shakily pulled Harry's trousers and pants down together. And he looked up at him with grateful, almost needy eyes. Zayn's lips were puckered as he curled them around the tip and swirled his tongue, simply toying with Harry now. He took him deeper, his hands stretched across Harry's bare bum. He was getting ready for the second part of his plan. 

His fingers delved in between Harry's milky cheeks, as Harry simultaneously hit the back of his throat. 

In one synchronized rhythm did Zayn pleasure his curly friend. Just as he bobbed his head on Harry's cock, did his fingers push in and out of his hole. 

Other than Harry's explicit moans though, there was no sound. Zayn was completely immersed in making this the best orgasm of his entire life. Harry was close to it, too. Zayn knew the signs of it; the tug on his raven strands, his eyes shut tight, brows etched into a tight line. 

But Zayn was no sucker (well kind of) and if he was gonna go out, he was gonna go out with a bang. 

"I'm clo-", Zayn cut him off. There would be none of this coming in his mouth. 

He pulled off of Harry's cock with a pop. He finished Harry off with a stroke or two before the hot liquid was covering his entire face, dripping from his chin. 

"Thank you", Zayn whispered.


End file.
